This is the fourth coproduction from Drag City and Yoga Records and it's a big one. Most people who hear this album become at least mildly addicted. As time grows short and this description says it so well, I'm borrowing the one sheet text from them. Most remarkably, it says it without mentioning Devo (the single closest point of popular comparison) or Arthur Russell (with whom these guys used to jam).
"It's almost 1980. Soho, New York is fertile with young, no-wave punks getting sharper and increasingly angular: Branca, DNA, Teenage Jesus, Contortions, Suicide, et al, as well as the groups they would spawn. Coveted and revered bands for many today, this music was peripheral at the time. Unheard by most save for the underbelly, these were artists living free and dirty, trying to outdo each other. Within the periphery of this periphery, Social Climbers made sounds that were of their environs yet remarkably unique, leaving an indelible stamp on the scene while somehow managing to slither undetected out of all the history books. A downtown New York art band as much as any other, Social Climbers also claimed midwestern roots and actual musicianship that many of their contemporaries lacked, and in trade dismissed and essentially protested the snotty pretensions that drove many others within the scene. Social Climbers are an absolute post-punk blueprint: fat bass (often two), guitar, drum machine (dubbed "the monkey"), feverish vocals, and organ. Their lone, self-titled album is agitated and impossibly wild, yet danceable and composed. Gulcher Records initially released the album as a triple 7". Their record was barely picked up by the local underground rock distributor, as is common in a crowded scene, and the group disbanded in 1982. Their one artifact is as earnest as it is fractured and terrifying. Mostly, it's just fucking cool. And it's here, again, sounding as relevant today as it did when it was of the moment; perhaps, even more so."